King Ozai III
by Firelord-Zutara
Summary: Years after the colonization of the so called New World, the colonists find themselves revolting over King Ozai's control over the colonies. But what will happen when the prince comes to visit, and finds himself sympathizing with the people of Boston - especially one blue eyed girl in particular? Zutara, in progress. Rated M for possible later scenarios


**Soooo it's probably blasphemy to have this many stories going on at once so for right now this is just a test fic! It's not high priority but I just got this idea and it really stuck with me so I just wanted to try it out? So please please please review and let me know what you think, I've never seen an AU like this and I wanna know it's it's something people would be interested in. So yeah...Thank you so much! And I'll get back to Only Once (and Seeing Red!) soon I promise :)**

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It was cold that night, colder than the usual autumn evening in Boston. She supposed that Sokka had let the fire die down too much, but she also supposed it had something to do with the unusual howling wind and freezing rain that shattered from the sky. Her father had told her stories of London; how the rain came down much more frequently than it did her. But Boston weather was more unpredictable, he said. Freezing rain one minute, a blazing sun the next.

However, it was late into the evening and the sun wouldn't come out for hours, even if it were able to pierce itself through the thick, looming clouds. So instead, Katara layered on her sweaters and blankets, and made her way down the creaky wooden steps of her house as she drew herself closer to the fire. To her mild surprise, the flames was blazing bright, with Sokka tending to it carefully.

When he heard the floorboards squeak under her weight, Katara's brother turned to face her, eyebrow slightly raised.

"Cold night," she muttered, as she sat onto the floor beside him, blankets still wrapped around her.

Sokka merely nodded as he placed the fire iron beside the fireplace. It was quiet for a period, one greater than she was used to around her brother. Eventually he turned to her, his blue eyes much brighter than they were moments ago.

"Remember the time you almost fell into the fire and Dad screamed so loud, that the neighbors nearly broke the front door down?"

She laughed sharply, rolling her eyes. "No, Sokka. I was two, remember?"

He only snickered, turning his body so he was facing her completely. "Well believe me, it was hilarious. Well, maybe not at the time, but…"

"Yeah, real funny."

Silence.

"I hear the Prince is coming into town this week."

At this, Katara's ears perked up as she cocked her head slightly. According to Sokka, the Prince was coming in every day, and if it wasn't the Prince, it was the King himself. Or some governor, or some other "important" man that Katara had never really bothered to pay much mind to. While her father had been English born, Katara wasn't, and thus never really paid much mind to English going ons. Or rather, English going ons that didn't affect the colonies.

However, Sokka's sources were usually highly unreliable; they most often bore themselves from tipsy tavern goers, or customers at their father's store that would trade gossip in hopes of some sort of discount.

Despite herself, Katara still had to ask. "Who'd you hear it from?"

"Bato."

The girl raised her eyebrows, her mouth gaping slightly as her brother's curled into a small, smug smirk. She trusted Bato as much as she did her dad, and while that trust didn't actually equate to reliable gossip, it still shocked her. Bato worked at the port, and sources directly from the port tended to hint at the largest amount of truth.

Not wanted to offer her brother a victory - though by his face she supposed it was too late - Katara simply shrugged, dulling her eyes. "Bato could be wrong. What reason would the Prince himself have to visit Boston?"

"Enforce taxes? Mandate the countless soldiers flooding in? Think about it, that damned Stamp Act is ruining business and people are beginning to revolt. Surely-"

"Well of course I know that!" Katara snapped, narrowing her eyes at her brother. "I'm in the shop as much as you are, combined with the taxes on sugar…"

She sighed, shaking her head. It was stupid, so utterly stupid. Her dad was traveling to England as they spoke, a representative of Boston and the Massachusetts colony itself. All they wished was for a voice in parliament, but Katara already knew the King was going to refuse, as he'd done so many times. And yet, the damned man was taking their money, and with what right? Because the people of the colonies hailed from England, but were nearly self sufficient on their own, without the need of being babied by Great Britain?

She sighed, running her hands across her face and through her thick dark locks. It was madness; it felt like madness, and not just to her. Just the other day there were revolts against such acts. Her neighbors' house was overtaken by soldiers because they had the "right" to be quartered there. As was expected, by Katara anyway, the family revolted and chaos ensued. Nearby colonists helped the family as the soldiers called for backup. It wasn't a particularly violent clash; everyone walked out alive. One of the helping citizens did get nicked fairly badly in the leg and was taken to the nearby infirmary, but besides that, no harm done. Except for the citizens arrested and taken into custody, but that was commonplace.

Katara had watched the even ensue from her bedroom window, as she had many others. Like all of them, she had desperately wanted to go out and help despite the consequences, but she knew she couldn't do it without Sokka; not without him beside her, anyway.

Until that day came, Katara made due with glaring out her window, bitter resentment twisted across her face. The people were told the soldiers were sent to help the colonists, but it was clear that this was far from the truth. They were hear to bully us, and nothing short of such.

Sokka didn't see it, and it frustrated Katara to no end. "I'm on your side, I know it's fucked up, I know it's unfair and unjust! But you have to pick your battles Katara, you can't go out helping every random stranger you pass by!"

Deep within herself, Katara knew that he was right. One wrong move, one slip up and she could be stabbed or taken into custody or something. But Katara had been training with her dad for years, and with Sokka in her father's absence. She knew she had a fighting chance. Not against a rifle, but against any guard who chose to play fair.

She shook her head, the memories jumbling around within her. Her eyes bore into the glowing embers, the warmth radiating off and filling her skin, her veins.

_Pick your battles,_ he said. _You can't save everyone, you can't save this colony,_ he said.

_Yeah? Watch me._


End file.
